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Then she was out, looking around for the guy. He was over by the parking lot, and she was right. His friend had been about to leave.

But he wasn't leaving any longer. Now, he was climbing out of his car, and the two of them were staring directly at her.

"Hey!" the man who wasn't quite a CO said. "Come here. We want to talk to you."

Cora didn't want to attract unwanted attention. Not now, not in this rough looking parking lot on the wrong side of the racetrack. She wanted to keep her head down. But as she turned to go back inside, intending to melt into the crowd, a hand grabbed her from behind.

A third man.

She was surrounded, and this was an ambush.

CHAPTER SIX

They had something to hide, Cora was sure. These guys all knew what was going on and they were doing whatever it took to keep it under wraps. Starting with taking her out.

There was nobody else around in this parking lot. No sign of Gabe. She was on her own, with two men who were approaching fast, and a third who was holding her from behind, his hands clamped over her right shoulder and her left arm.

She could feel his fingers shifting into her muscles, intending to hurt. This wasn't going to be pretty. These guys were tough, violent, the type who could be found all the way down at the bottom of the barrel at any military base.

But they didn't know who she was. They thought she was a civilian, and that she’d be easy prey. They were probably planning to smack her around, break her nose and a couple of ribs, and land her in the hospital for a while.

Not going to happen, Cora thought to herself. Before the two men could reach her, she spun around, wrenching herself loose from the man behind her, just enough so that she could deliver a powerful elbow jab into his midriff with her right arm.

The man grunted and stumbled back, but Cora didn't wait around to finish the job. She'd gotten free from him and that was enough for now.

Shouts and cries of excitement were coming from inside the bar as the last few horses loaded. Everyone's focus was inside, and nobody was aware of what was playing out in the back parking lot. The race was consuming everyone’s attention and that meant Cora was on her own.

She needed to contain this situation, and fast.

She raced forward to the two other men, who were just a few yards away, closing in fast. As they saw her wrench herself free, their expressions changed. The aggressive intent morphed into surprise.

Take the main guy first. Always put down the biggest threat, the ringleader. That was what she'd been taught.

Cora launched herself at the man she’d spoken to first. She wanted him down, quick and dirty. He was preparing to throw a punch, but he wasn't going to get that far if she could help it. She went in with her boots, sending a flying roundhouse kick to his knee. Accurate, a perfect shot. He crumpled, forgetting about the punch, and she kicked him again, in the chest, using the momentum to spin around to face his partner, aware that the guy behind her was regrouping for another attack.

Cora pivoted on her left foot, her right leg coming around in a back kick that connected with the other man's gut. He doubled over, coughing and choking. He'd had too much to drink, she saw that instantly. A kick in the gut had now disabled him to the extent that all he could do was double over and start throwing up.

As for the man behind her she was all out of patience with him. He was all muscle, no brain, and as slow as an ox. She dodged a punch she saw coming from a million miles away, ducked under it, and caught him in the neck with the blade of her hand. Then she let the heel of her other hand smash into the side of his head. He stumbled groggily to his knees, coughing.

In a flash, Cora was back to the ringleader, the guy she'd spoken to inside. He was flailing on the ground, grunting in pain. She kicked him in the ribs, sending him slamming down onto the asphalt, and wrenched his arm up behind him as hard and tight as she could.

"Right," she muttered into his ear. "Time to talk."

The cheers from inside were even louder. The race was on. And so was her own personal race against time. She didn't have much of it before someone came out and found them. She needed to make the most of it.

"Tell me what I asked you about, or else I'll smash your other knee," she threatened. He swore violently in response, letting out a string of defiant expletives. He was doing his best to fight, trying to writhe and buck under her, to use his strength and weight to overpower her. She couldn't lose focus for a moment. One instant was all it would take for the tables to turn.

She yanked his arm harder so he gasped.

"Prefer a broken arm?" she hissed. "Tell me!"

"Okay," he muttered. "Okay."

"A name!"

"We know what's been going on. Newer people on base have been found dead. Yeah, they might have been murdered. But we're not allowed to talk."

"On whose orders?" she pressured.

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